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Before a single pedal turned upon the slope tonight, a quiet murmur rippled through the assembled field. Last week's victor, Alex Raynard, was signed up but unable to race, bearing heavy fatigue of past efforts. Other superstars were absent from the evening's roster too. Into this space stepped last season's club champion, Thomas Bowers. Fielding the sudden weight of expectation with a lighthearted resilience, he noted the raw wattage of the powerful rivals hoping to dethrone him. To stand a chance against them, he joked that he was going to have to focus on getting aerodynamic to match their sheer, unyielding force. Could he do it?
At the threshold of the mountain, standing like an unyielding monolith, was James, the appointed gatekeeper and master of the start line. Tasked with forcefully gripping the shivering steeds and physically pushing off the riders so they might become cleanly clipped in to their weapons, he bore a mighty burden. A man gifted with awe-inspiring upper-body strength, he fearlessly dismissed the gravity of his post. He laughed warmly at the long line of ascendants before him, claiming his toil would be entirely easy, completely unfazed despite it being a very physical job.
Beneath his watchful eye, the test began. 47 heroes took to the start line of our famous uphill velodrome, eager to beat their PBs. They knew the legendary ascent well, yet the seductive spirit of the Cat & Fiddle mountain inevitably drew victims to their ruin. Some were too eager, going off extremely hard only to fade in the exposed sections above.
And there was, too, the deception of the air itself. Weather on this mountain works a wicked trick upon the senses of a racing mind. To the calm observers and spectators standing at the side of the road, the atmosphere was eerily still; fans truly felt nothing. Such was the magical silence of the skies that, standing upon the pinnacle, you could hear a pin drop. The invisible enemy the riders fought was born purely from the brutally tedious feeling of forcibly pushing stagnant air out of the way to capture every inch of forward motion. In reality, this phantom headwind was only light but felt like a hurricane at race pace.
For some, preparing for this deceptive wind was paramount. Club member David Watkins had consulted the forecasts a week prior, dreaming of a soaring tailwind. But upon discovering the shifting breeze on race day, he adapted brilliantly. Hoping to slice through the wall, he dressed in full time-trial kit: a rear disk wheel, pointed helmet, and skin-suit, undeterred even when his six-year-old called out to him, "it's raining, dad!" Breaking through the omen, he trimmed a mighty 83 seconds off his record from June 2023. Vowing to return to face whatever weather the second and third Cat stages will conjure, his spirit remained unbroken, noting simply: "When is the Cat and Fiddle not a good ride?"
Throughout the field, tales of tactical survival played out. The remarkable Jose Saraiva tackled the course with deep poise for what was remarkably only his second ever hill climb. Shedding an astonishing 50kg over three years to arrive as a 110kg powerhouse, he embraced the wisdom of conservative early pacing over sheer impulse. Maintaining a steady, brutal 330-350 Watts, he masterfully reeled in those who had flown past him too soon, finishing only a brilliant 2 minutes shy of his PB on an electric bike! Confessing later that he still felt strong at the summit and could have pushed even harder, steeper, harder stages surely await his steady wheel.
Sharing this triumphant path of personal rebirth was the steadfast Alex Taylor, navigating his own monumental weight-loss journey to resurrect the ghost of his former greatness. Chasing his own shadow from 2010, a bygone golden era where he was feeling immensely strong and smashing it in the hills, Alex launched a fierce, determined campaign to reclaim those glory days. His mighty ascent paid historic dividends. Slicing a staggering 100 seconds off his most recent outing with us, he brilliantly leapfrogged that modern marker to overtake his storied 2010 PB as well! Though momentarily shadowed by a flicker of disappointment at missing the illustrious sub-30-minute barrier, the enduring fire of a true competitor could not be extinguished. Returning home, he immediately fixed his gaze forward upon the coming battles, boldly declaring: "right, let's get my issues remedied".
A different battle raged for Phillip Coates. After dedicating his winter to focused study of all things hill climbing, fitting an unyielding 38-tooth chainring and 11-32 cassette, his night was almost undone by a rushed warm-up and rocky start. Frustration took hold near Bull Hill Lane as he snapped his bike left and right, wrenching the bars as his rhythm faltered. Yet, showing the mind of a true competitor, he recentered his focus, gathered his spinning legs back to the 300 Watt target, and pushed straight through screaming calf cramps at the finish line. The ensuing results text message from the organizers sent him to the moon: he had taken second place among the Veterans, drawing closer than ever to the standard set by the revered Paul Whittaker. A towering two-time (but now three-time) M VET champion and an unwavering, ever-present force in racing since the series began in 2021, Whittaker is one of the legendary benchmarks all men chase on these slopes.
But for all the experience of the seasoned veterans, the evening stood as a roaring triumph for the sport's rising youth. The top of the standings was thoroughly swarmed by younger riders throwing down magnificent times: Oscar Shaw, Red Johnson, Toby Diggins, alongside the fiercely fast Bradbury brothers, Jacob and Josh. Their massed ascents proved an undeniable victory for the future of racing. Leading the way to capture outright glory was Harper Johnson. Clocking an incredible overall winning time of 20:23.443, he stood a mere 33 seconds off the hallowed M JUN record forged 22 years prior by Adam Kenway himself. His achievement becomes more astonishing when learning from his own mother that he endured the effort with a sore, aching chest.
Directly behind him in second overall, and claiming the title of fastest in the Open Senior category, was the relentless Jack Morris. Having knocked tirelessly upon the mountain's door for years, he missed overall victory by only 23 seconds. This is definitive proof that raw persistence wins on this drawn-out gradient in many ways. Following close behind Jack was our club champion Thomas Bowers; having spent the last few years painstakingly tweaking his battle gear and refining his racing strategies, his own unique persistence thoroughly paid off too. The quickest among the formidable female combatants was Tammy Lewis Jones, who crested the great slope with an unmatched, masterful time of 26:57.688.
10km and 333m of elevation later, they stood at the top of the mountain, wishing the pub at the summit was open for a drink. Moisture loss through the many breaths used to get there left everyone thoroughly parched.
As the chilled air settled over the hills, the warriors slowly descended to common ground. Back at the base of the mountain, the bunch regrouped to debrief, happily telling war stories over home-made flapjacks we supplied free of charge. Where only minutes prior they had suffered, they were now completely overwhelmed with joy. Hearts still pumping with the night's thrill, some were already eager to return for another go, staring up into the dusk and hoping for even faster conditions. We return to this course in June, so there is not long to wait!
By Bhima
Full results: https://hillclimbproject.co.uk/race/?c=KtX9rEysba
Photos/videos: https://hillclimbproject.co.uk/shots/2026-05-08/